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Insects. When vernal sun-beams pierce their dark retreat, The heaving tomb diftends with vital heat; The full-form'd brood, impatient of their cell, Start from their trance and burst their filken shell; Trembling awhile they stand, and scarcely dare To launch at once upon the untried air. At length aflur'd, they catch the fav'ring gale, And leave their fordid (poils, and high in æther
fail. Lo! the bright train their radiant wing's unfold, With filver fringed and freckled o'er with gold. On the gay bosom of some fragrant flower They idly flutt'ring live their little hour; Their life all pleasure, and their task all play, All spring their age, and fun-fhine all their day. Not so the child of sorrow, wretched man: His course with toil concludes, with pain began, That his high destiny he might discern, And in misfortune's school this leflon learn, Pleasure's the portion of th' inferior kind; But glory, virtue, Heaven for man defign'd.
What atom forms of insect life appear !
Their wings with azure, green, and purple gloss’d,
The Frozen Shower.
THE FROZEN SHOWER.
Written at Copenbagen.
ERE yet the clouds let fall the treasur'd fnow,
The frighted birds the rattling branches (hun,
Milo, forbear to call him blest
Let a broad stream with golden sands
Through all his meadows roll, He's but a wretch with all hislands
That wears a narrow soul.
Were I fo tall to reach the pole,
The Old Man's Comforts.
THE OLD MAN'S COMFORTS, AND HOW
HE GAINED THEM.
" You are old, father William,” young
man cried, 66 The few locks that are left you are gray: You are hale, father William, a hearty old man:
Now tell me the reason, I pray."
“ In the days of my youth," father William re
plied, “ I remember'd that youth would fly fast, And abus'd not my health and my vigour at first,
That I never might need them at last.”
« You are old, father William," the young man
cried, “ And pleasures with youth pass away, And yet you lament not the days that are gone : Now tell me the reason, I pray:"?